


A Quiet Impact

by trysomecats



Series: The Strength of Silence [8]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Disability, Friendship, Gen, Good Parent Thranduil, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Legolas, Young Legolas Greenleaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trysomecats/pseuds/trysomecats
Summary: Three separate moments revolving around Legolas’ voice.





	A Quiet Impact

**Author's Note:**

> It's been far too long since I've updated for this series. 
> 
> Enjoy!

I.

 

Because there were no pressing matters at hand regarding Greenwood, Thranduil’s intention was to spend the remainder of the day with Legolas. They would play together among the trees, which were beginning to change color with the new turn of the season. 

 

There was nothing the king enjoyed more than watching his little one interact with the forest, which was just as much his parent as Thranduil was. Greenwood was a teacher to all of her inhabitants, but the king knew that Legolas had a special relationship with her; he spoke to Greenwood in a way that no other was able to. 

 

The king went straight to the lower levels of the cavern-palace, to the room where Legolas usually worked with his tutor, Beldroth. Much to the king’s surprise, there was no little elfling to greet him there. Beldroth grimaced when the king inquired as to where his child was.

 

“Prince Legolas did well with his studies today, but…”

 

“What is it?” Thranduil asked curiously. “Has he misbehaved again?”

 

“Oh nothing like that. He’s been a saint ever since that incident with the poisonous ferns,” the tutor assured him. “But he was rather despondent today. He didn’t smile once during his lessons….as you know, that’s quite odd for his nature. I ended things early today, in hopes that he might cheer up.”

 

The king frowned at the news. Legolas was well known for his incessant cheer. For him to be feeling down was most definitely a cause for concern. Thranduil immediately feared the worst, such as illness or injury. “Yes, that is unusual. I must go and see to him at once.”

 

He made for the nursery, where the elfing was sure to be. 

 

The door was cracked open wide enough for Thranduil to immediately catch sight of his son without entering. What he saw made the king stop dead in his tracks. 

 

The elfling was looking closely at himself in the mirror, with one small hand pressed against the cool glass. His sky-gray eyes were filled with something that was a cross between graveness and determination. His lips were moving as he spoke silently to his reflection, and it took the king a moment to realize what his son was doing. 

 

Legolas was trying to speak out loud. 

 

Thranduil felt frozen, unsure of what to do. A part of him wanted to immediately announce his presence and bring comfort to his little one. Another part of him was curious, and he wanted to see what would happen next. What if a miracle should happen, and his quiet baby elfling would finally speak? 

 

Legolas’ lips moved quicker, with apparent urgency. Nothing happened, and his little hand that rested on the mirror curled into a fist. Finally, the king could not bear to watch any longer, and he felt a deep shame for expecting such a thing in the first place.

 

“Legolas,” he said, taking a step into the room. The elfling turned around in surprise, and he beamed at the sight of his ada. Thranduil held out his arms, and Legolas danced across the floor and threw himself into them. 

 

Thranduil held him close. “Ion nin, what were you doing?” 

 

Frowning, Legolas reached up, his fingers ghosting over Thranduil’s lips. The king caught the tiny hand and kissed it. “Words are words. They are thoughtless, and often spoken with little meaning. What you have is so much  _ greater _ . Surely my child, you must know this?”

 

Legolas nodded, but he still did not look completely satisfied. This time he moved to touch one of his ada’s ears. Thranduil immediately understood what was on his mind; Legolas thought that Thranduil desired to hear him speak aloud. He rushed to reassure him. 

 

“I love you for  _ you _ ,” Thranduil brushed back his son’s pale hair. “Every fiber of my heart belongs to you only. Legolas, I do not know why your words were taken from you, but I know for certain that it doesn’t matter. People hide behind their words, and you- you are a bright beacon of hope and delight, with every smile, every touch...you bring what no word could ever accomplish.”

 

He kissed the elfling’s nose in between his sentences, and Legolas responded with muffled laughter; it was a sound that made Thranduil’s heart ache with love. “And so you see my little leaf, I do hear you talk. I am able to listen and understand you far more than any other elf in Middle Earth or beyond.”

 

Legolas touched his hand to his heart, and then wrapped both of his arms tightly around Thranduil’s neck. The king kissed him once more on his delicate temple. “Come now, we must spend the afternoon among the trees.”

 

As expected, Legolas agreed in delight, and together father and son spend the afternoon together among Greenwood’s magic. 

  
  


II.

  
  


“I’m sorry my friend, but this will have to stay bound for at least a day,” Aragorn told him, his voice kind yet firm, as it had to be on matters such as this. 

 

As expected, Legolas was not happy with such news. He wore a blatant scowl as Aragorn constructed a makeshift sling from some cloth. Aragorn paid the prince no mind, easily ignoring the scathing look as he manipulated the elf’s injured arm into the sling. 

 

It was not long after the battle of Helm’s Deep, and although Legolas had fought valiantly throughout it, he had also managed to hurt his arm toward the end of the fight. 

 

“Be thankful for your fast healing; had one of us sustained an injury like this, it would take at least a week to heal properly.”

 

Many words that were signed required the use of both hands. With Legolas’ right arm out of commission, his method of communication would be severely inhibited. Unlike the blindfolding incident in Lothlorien, Aragorn did not feel guilty for his actions this time. Legolas needed to heal, and if he was cut off from speaking for the day, then so be it. 

 

“There,” he said, satisfied when it was clear the sling would hold. “Now, I don’t want to see you use that arm at all until I give you permission, do you understand? If you overstrain it, then it will merely set back the healing process.” 

 

Legolas gave a small grunt of dissatisfaction, one that was just on the verge of becoming a whine. 

 

“You’re very welcome,” Aragorn said, grinning wickedly now. 

 

Legolas made a rude gesture back at him; it only required the use of one finger. Aragorn merely patted his shoulder and stood back up. There were many more who had been injured during the battle, and he needed to move on and help with tending to them. 

 

“Do me a favor and keep an eye on him?” He muttered to Gimli on his way out of the room. Legolas could still easily hear him, and he looked affronted. 

 

“Aye, that I can do,” Gimli agreed, crossing his arms and smiling fondly at the petulant expression on his elven friend’s face. The closer that he grew in friendship to Legolas, the more delighted he was in watching assessing his behaviors. So much for an esteemed elvish prince; he reminded Gimli more of a stubborn dwarrow-youngling!  

 

“Come now Princling, enough of that pouting!” Gimli scolded him. “He’s only looking out for your best interests. Besides, you want to be well for the post-battle celebration, do you not? How will you attempt to outdrink me with only one arm?”

 

The dwarf’s words were successful, and Legolas was smiling again. 

 

“Moreover, it will be nice to have a bit of quiet for once!” Gimli couldn’t resist teasing. 

 

Legolas glared at him, but his grey eyes were laughing now. It was remarkable how close the two had come throughout the journey. What they had now would be a life-lasting friendship. Legolas even envisioned taking Gimli home to meet his father. Thranduil was not fond of dwarves, but surely he would come to appreciate Gimli the same way that Legolas did. 

 

Besides, Thranduil always liked people who disregarded Legolas’ vocal impairment. So often other outsiders would not know how to react to a mute elf. They would either show pity or confusion. Gimli, much like Aragorn, managed to challenge Legolas in the most unique of ways, and at the same time he seemed to know what Legolas wanted just by the look in his eyes, or his facial expression. 

 

Whether or not Frodo managed to destroy the ring, Legolas could still fully appreciate all that had been given to him since his joining of the Fellowship. 

 

III.

 

It was a rather amusing sight to watch both Legolas and Gimli squabble as they tried to teach Éomer and Éowyn various words with the voice of the hands. Dwarvish sign language had some notable differences from the kind that Legolas had learnt, and they often argued over which variation was better. 

 

“You know, when Éomer was a boy, he didn’t speak for almost a year,” Théoden told Aragorn and Gandalf, both of whom were watching as well. 

 

Aragorn’s eyes narrowed in concern at this information. “What happened?”

 

“The death of my sister and her husband drove him into a deep grief. It seemed to rob him of his words, among other things. He’s always been a rather quiet lad, even before he was orphaned.” 

 

“What made him start speaking again?”

 

“Éowyn,” Théoden said, smiling. “She was being reckless, as usual, and it scared Éomer. He shouted at her when he caught her playing with a sword, and she was so startled to hear him speak again that it worked and she dropped it.”

 

Aragorn looked back across the room, to where the two siblings were smiling as Gimli and Legolas argued. Although the argument was entirely spoken in the voice of the hands, it seemed to be as loud as ever. 

 

“The elf, Legolas, has he always been….?” The king trailed off in question. 

 

“Since he was born,” Aragorn confirmed. “While mutism might be uncommon for mortals, it isn’t unheard of. For the eldar, however, it is an entire different kind of rarity.”

 

“I see,” Théoden frowned in thought, his eyes still trained on Legolas as the elf’s hands effortlessly flew through the motions of his signing. He couldn’t imagine how he would feel if Éomer or Éowyn had been born mute. As their uncle and guardian, he treasured them more than anything else in the world. How terrible it must be, to be deprived as something as simple and natural as speech. Just the year alone of Éomer’s silence had driven him anxious. 

 

“Speaking and communicating are entirely separate from one another,”  Gandalf suddenly cut in, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Legolas is a master at communication...that much is obvious, seeing as he’s managed to teach your niece and nephew six unique curses in the short time they’ve been learning.” 

 

Aragorn laughed out loud, and even the king found himself chuckling. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
